Wasn't For Me
by Tseecka
Summary: Varric's not like most of the folk of Ferelden-he's just not interested in buying what the employees of the Blooming Rose are sellng, though he's perfectly willing to go if it means helping out a friend. (Ace!Varric)


I have a really, really strong love for Asexual!Varric which is what prompted this little ficlet. My personal headcanon is that he is perfectly capable and even eagerly willing to form romantic attachments to others, but sex is something he's simply not interested in.

I have never written an ace character before, so I'm really sorry if anything I've written here is offensive or inaccurate to the ace community-I'm basing most of what Varric says and thinks off of comments I've seen floating around the Internet, particularly where it relates to asexual visibility on Tumblr.

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Isabela talks Varric into taking Merrill to the Rose. The poor girl's shy and terrible at talking to people and she told Isabela one night during a game of girls-only Wicked Grace and a rather bawdy conversation that, "I've never, you know-"

"Not with anyone?"

"Well, there was a, a girl once-" and she hesitates, but Isabela doesn't flinch, and she continues with-slightly (very slightly)-more confidence, "when I was still living with the Dalish, but we only ever, you know, kissed, and-there are just so many people, here, and it's impossible to tell who is-available? It's hard enough finding someone open-minded to being with an elf, and that's before you add in the being an apostate and wanting a woman and-how do humans do that, anyways, meet people interested in-you know-" and her voice had dropped off from its ramble, and she'd glanced between an interested-looking Isabela and a slightly uncomfortable-looking Aveline and whispered, "sex?"

And because Isabela is pants at keeping secrets, especially where they relate to their friends, and most especially the sex lives of said friends, she tells Varric and they agree that Merrill really does need to have at least one experience, or at the very least get comfortable with saying the word, and there's no better place for that than the Blooming Rose.

Of course, once they get there, Isabela practically immediately prances off with one of the male whores (she's evidently a regular there, and it's hard to tell whether she or Jethan is more eager, actually) and Varric is left to help Merrill get set up with a really sweet girl who promises to treat her really well.

After that, there's not much for him to do other than just sit and wait in the lobby with a pint of mead and a book he nicked from Hawke's mansion. The whores and the patrons are all side-eyeing him, and no wonder, he's rarely in here and he knows he makes a pretty picture. Finally, a female elf approaches him, eyes hooded and voice sultry, and offers to take care of him. She glances back over her shoulder at one point in their conversation, and he knows the Madame doesn't appreciate loiterers so he agrees and tosses her a sovereign, and she takes his hand.

But then they go upstairs, and she's all ready to get down to business, but he takes a wide detour around the bed and just settles in the arm chair. She looks at him in confusion, and he just nods to the bed with a congenial smile on his face, and says softly, "Why don't you just have a nap, pumpkin-you look half dead on your feet, and I'm sure this job doesn't give you a lot of time to rest."

At first she thinks he's joking, and laughs it off-and then she gets weirded out, accuses him of harbouring the types of fantasies Madam Lusine forbids in her establishment, thinking it's a kink-but the more Varric talks to her, not moving from the chair as she paces in agitation around the room, the more she realizes he's genuine. So she slips into her shift, and curls up under the covers, and they talk until she falls asleep.

She asks him why he went with her if he doesn't find her attractive, and he reassures her, tells her there's nothing wrong with her looks, he just doesn't work the same as most men-as most _people_.

"I tried it once; wasn't for me"

"Maybe you just haven't had the right experience?" she asks, and it would be a loaded question asked by an expert at her craft-except her eyelids are drooping and she has a soft smile on her face and she's really just genuinely curious. Varric knows he's a rarity, knows there are very few people like him in Ferelden, and the ones who are usually have no reason to frequent brothels. So he just shakes his head and smiles back, leans forward in the chair and pats her hand where it lays on top of the coverlet. "I don't need any more experience to know that about myself."

And then, he settles back in the armchair, pulls his book back out of one of the deep pockets of his coat, and reads until his time is up and he has to wake her.

As he's getting up to leave and she's climbing out of bed, she tries to give him back his sovereign, insisting that she did nothing to earn it; but he refuses, says she needs it more than he does (which she knows is true-they spent some of that time talking about Varric's role at the Champion's side, and while never explicitly stated, they both know he's not exactly strapped for cash) and winks at her as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

He meets up with Isabela and Merrill in the lobby and the two rogues have great fun needling Merrill, good-naturedly of course, about her experience. The poor girl goes absolutely, endearingly pink, all the way to the tips of her pointed ears, but smiles and says it was really wonderful, better than she'd dreamed. Isabela gets drawn into a conversation with another patron, someone she obviously knows from her time before joining their little band, and Varric has no desire to become complicit in whatever scheme they're discussing. Instead, he takes Merrill aside to get a drink from the bar.

"Did you really enjoy it, Daisy?"

He is pretty sure she did, actually, the expression on her face makes that more-or-less clear; but he just wants to make sure. The poor thing's inexperienced in the ways of the wider world, especially where love and flesh are involved, and he remembers feeling so very strange when he figured out he didn't want what half of Ferelden seems desperate to get. So he wants to give her the space to answer in the negative, doesn't want to make assumptions; wants her to know it's okay, and natural, and all the things he's had to spend long years figuring out for himself.

But she just smiles shyly and brushes a piece of hair behind her ear as she accepts the drink from the barkeep and nods. "I did, I really did-though I think, maybe next time-well, she was very kind and beautiful and gentle, but-" And her colour deepens and she stares determinedly into her drink, and Varric just laughs and pats her on the back and takes a swig of his own ale, having a pretty good idea what she's getting at.

"Nothing wrong with that, either."


End file.
